On Foot
by CourageComplex46
Summary: The world is falling apart, ravaged by war. A Special Operations Squad from the nation of Paradis ventures to overtake the domineering nation of Marley - in the name of freedom. Shinzou wo Sasageyo!
1. Chapter 1: The Eye of the Storm

Armin Arlelt shifted his weight forward, leaning heavily on his crutches as he made for the door. He hadn't been expecting visitors this early in the morning. He certainly hadn't expected to see Sasha Braus at the door. It had been 11 years.

* * *

"Oh my god…" Historia Reiss inhaled sharply as she gazed upon the most adorable baby girl she'd ever seen. "She's… yours?"

Levi Ackerman smiled – a rarity, to be sure – and nodded. "8 months tomorrow," he remarked. "She's every bit as beautiful as her mother, who I hear knows you quite well."

"Miss Ral – or rather, Mrs. Ackerman! She was Miss Ral the last time we met. She was my mentor at the Academy!" Historia, the demolitions officer for Paradis' Special Operations Squad, reflected fondly upon Petra Ral, once a military ace who had since retired to care for her newborn daughter. "What's her name? Your daughter, I mean."

"Margaret," the commander of the Special Operations Squad replied; he smirked at Historia's raised eyebrows. "Not exactly a warrior's name, I know." He smiled as he gazed at the photograph. "But that's what I'm hoping for, anyway. I hope we can end this war before she has to grow up in the middle of it. We're on the clock, Reiss." He said the last portion with a soft smile in Historia's direction.

Historia looked back down at the photo. "She has your eyes," she remarked. It was partially true. They held the same brown hue, but Margaret's were far brighter, perhaps even iridescent. She truly was a beautiful baby.

"And my temper," Levi snorted. "Luckily, she gets everything else from her mom." Historia laughed, a feminine wind-chime laugh that one might not expect from a highly skilled soldier. She released her grip on the photograph; Levi tucked it away into the pocket of his officer's jacket.

"Only 8 months?" Historia queried. "They have you back awfully soon, considering you're the father of a newborn."

"I'm 35, Historia," Levi replied. "I'm at the tail end of my physical prime, but I'm getting over that hump. Pretty soon, I'll be more of a liability in high leverage missions, and I guess the brass wants to put me to use while I'm still young."

Historia nodded in comprehension. She understood that Levi was called the greatest soldier in Paradis' military history for a reason. His prowess under duress and his dexterity with firearms were nigh unmatched in the ranks of the army. And, of course, he was still alive after 16 years of service in the military; nearly since the start of the War. Not many other soldiers could say as much.

"In any case, the War needs to end soon," Levi remarked, almost as if reading her mind. His voice had become colder. "I don't know if the higher-ups have discussed this with you, but there's going to be a covert operation in the coming days. Commander Erwin wants to dispatch us to the outskirts of Marley to seize Fort Tybur in the Liberio District." Historia didn't need to see the grim look on Levi's face to know that the success of that mission could dictate the outcome of the War. "If we can manage that, we might be able to jam the Navy through the teeth of the enemy."

Historia gritted her teeth. "May the Walls guide us, then," she replied.

* * *

"A blaze of glory," grinned Connie Springer. "That's the dream, isn't it?" The weapons sergeant tossed a wink at his best friend and fellow Special Operations officer.

"You're a moron, Connie," medical sergeant Sasha Braus shot back, smacking him in the shoulder with the manga novel she carried. Shingeki no Kyojin, it was called; it was compelling, but she couldn't quite wrap her brain around it at the moment. She'd have to finish it next time. "The real dream is to be a hero and to live. Have you ever seen a single war movie where the hero dies at the end?"

"Have you ever seen a war movie where the hero _doesn't_ die at the end, Braus?" Connie started to rattle off the relevant films. "Braveheart. Saving Private Ryan. Armageddon–"

"Armageddon's not a war movie, moron," Sasha growled. "But I get it. I get it. I guess I don't really like war movies, okay?" She lapsed into silence momentarily but looked up as she felt the pressure of Connie's eyes on her. "What, Springer? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Sorry, Sash," he replied. "I guess, after all these years we've known each other, I didn't know that. I always just kinda assumed you did."

"I don't know, man. They're just not that interesting, I guess." Sasha's voice was curt and a little strained. "I guess… there's no meaningful character development. Who likes a story where everyone dies at the end?"

* * *

"Go fish," Ymir Fritz crowed triumphantly. Intelligence sergeant Armin Arlelt wailed sorrowfully, drawing a three from the deck before him. He really should have asked for fours or eights instead of aces.

"You're so loud, Ymir," lamented a decidedly hungover Jean Kirstein. "You're so loud, all the damn time."

"Bug off, horseman," Ymir, the team's primary sniper and lookout, shot back. "You're just as loud any morning after you don't get drunk off your ass. The whole neighborhood knows; they sleep soundly once a week, whenever you're drunk." Ymir was the oldest outside of Levi, but she was hardly a mother figure. Most of that responsibility fell on Armin.

"But when he's drunk, all he does is complain about how Mikasa doesn't love him like he loves her," lamented Marco Bott, the communications sergeant of his assistant communications officer. "Seriously, you just try to cheer him up when he gets on his Eren vendetta."

"I mean, it's not Eren's fault," Armin chimed in. "It's Mikasa's choice, after all."

"Don't try to tell him that, Armin," Marco sighed. "Do you have any fours?"

Armin sighed. "God damn it, yes I do." He turned back to Marco, who triumphantly declared his book of fours. "I'm just saying, if Jean knew how Eren treated her behind closed doors, he might not blame her for choosing him."

"Behind closed doors? Too much info, shrimp." Ymir mocked forcible vomiting.

"Not like that, Ymir!" Armin protested. "They're not even officially together. Mikasa's in love with Eren, naturally, but it's not like that."

"It better not be. She's mine," growled Jean.

"For an assistant communications officer, you sure are thick," Ymir chuckled. "What's your take, Tommy? You've been awfully quiet."

Tomas Wagner, Historia's assistant demolitions officer, grinned back at Ymir. "Just enjoying the banter. That's all. Armin, any eights?" Armin groaned and handed him two cards. "That's a book of eights!"

"Speaking of relationships," Marco pressed. "How are things with Mina?"

Tomas groaned in response. "Still messy. It's been easy to dodge her these days – these barracks are big – but if they put us on a mission together, I hope it doesn't go south."

"You think she'll let it?" wondered Armin. "She's a professional, after all." Tomas and Ymir smirked.

"You clearly don't know Mina," Ymir chuckled. "She seems all nice, but she's a _bitch_."

"At least she seems nice," grumbled Jean. Ymir chucked a pillow at his prone form.

* * *

"Harder, Eren!" Mikasa's lungs were burning from her constant goading of the love of her life, but it was for both of their benefit that he push himself past his limits. "You can do it! Push harder!"

"I'm _trying_ , Mikasa," he shot back between gritted teeth. The grueling physical labor wasn't fun, per se, but he had an agenda. Mikasa's – his childhood friend and his biggest supporter – had always exceeded his own capacity for, well, everything. First, she'd beat him in their childhood footraces and wrestling matches. Then, she'd outscored him on all of their middle school tests. Now, she was the head close combat sergeant, and he was her direct subordinate. Perfect.

"You can do it!" She called out to him. He was attempting a 10th rep of 250 on the bench press, and it wasn't going particularly well. Mikasa's shouting wasn't helping, but he didn't have the heart or the energy to tell her that. He appreciated the effort, anyway. It was times like these that he felt bad that her superiority irritated him so much. He really did treasure her; she was his best friend in the world, after all.

He did not, however, treasure the pain coursing through his biceps and shoulders. Finally, his muscles relented and the bar came crashing down on his chest… but only for a split second. Mikasa was there in a heartbeat, yanking the bar back up to the stand with ease.

"Thanks, Mikasa." He smiled at her through his frustration. She smiled back.

"You're not getting killed on my watch, Eren." She said it with such conviction that he almost believed her.

* * *

"Reiner! Bertholdt!" Annie shrieked from the couch in the common area. Reiner came crashing in, Bertholdt hot on his tail. Annie smiled up at the technology specialist and his assistant. "Sit with me!"

"Jesus, Annie," Bertholdt wailed. "You scared the crap out of us. We thought you'd hurt yourself or something."

"So you _do_ care about me," she smirked. "Come sit, guys. If we die tomorrow, let's make today a good one."

* * *

Character Key:

Special Ops Squad Leader: Levi Ackerman

Tactician: Armin Arlelt

Assistant Tactician: Annie Leonhart

Subordinate Tactician: Tom Martin

Close Combat Sergeant: Mikasa Ackerman

Assistant Close Combat Sergeant: Eren Yeager

Subordinate Close Combat Sergeant: Nac Tius

Sniper and Lookout: Ymir Fritz

Assistant Sniper: Mylius Zeramuski

Demolitions Sergeant: Historia Reiss

Assistant Demolitions Sergeant: Tomas Wagner

Medic: Mina Carolina

Assistant Medic: Sasha Braus

Subordinate Medic: Hannah Diamant

Weapons Sergeant: Connie Springer

Assistant Weapons Sergeant: Samuel Linke-Jackson

Communications Sergeant: Marco Bott

Assistant Communications Sergeant: Jean Kirstein

Subordinate Communications Sergeant: Franz Kefka

Technology Specialist: Reiner Braun

Assistant Technology Specialist: Daz Krauss

Subordinate Technology Specialist: Bertholdt Hoover


	2. Chapter 2: Shinzou wo Sasageyo!

"Sasha." Armin spoke much more clearly than he'd expected himself to, given the circumstances. The girl peered down at him through long bangs, which were new and gave her a much more mature look than she'd had so many years before. She opened her mouth to speak.

* * *

You'll never hear it from him, but Levi Ackerman has always gotten nervous on the days of reckoning before field missions. It only got worse after he fell in love with Petra, and now he was set to embark on his first field mission as a father. His fingers and toes were numb and his heart doubly so. He clasped to his chest the folded picture he'd shown Historia the night before. He slipped down the ladder of his bunk and made for the bathroom, whether to use it or to simply collect himself in solitude. He was an early riser – he always had been, and it was no different now. He was almost always the first awake of his roommates in the barracks – himself, Eren Yeager, Samuel Linke-Jackson, and Armin Arlelt – so it surprised him when he bumped into Samuel on the way in.

He looked horrendous. He had bags under her eyes that he hadn't the night before, and his eyes were puffy and his nose was red. He'd definitely been crying, and Levi couldn't blame him. From what Commander Erwin Smith had told him, Samuel was a convenience pick for his high scores in weapons training in the academy, and he'd never been in a high leverage tactical situation.

"Commander Levi, good morning." Samuel's greeting was shockingly collected when one considered how much he was shaking. His hands trembled but his voice was steady. Levi noted that his thigh muscles were twitching, indicating sleep deprivation; that wouldn't do him any good come mission time.

"Good morning, Samuel. How did you sleep?" Levi asked out of politeness - he already knew the answer.

"Honestly, not that well," Samuel replied. "I'm frankly terrified, scared out of my mind." He said it with a little chuckle, which caught Levi off guard; it was an uncharacteristically accepting gesture from a man who otherwise wasn't taking the situation well at all. "You see, I've never been on a field mission before, even though I graduated the academy at the top of my class. I always..." He trailed off at Levi's hand on her shoulder.

"The first time I went on a mission, I was 19." Levi sat Samuel down at the small table in the center of the room. "A few years earlier, my dad – a raging alcoholic – murdered my mom, and I killed him shortly afterwards. I was set to be imprisoned for life, but Commander Erwin saved my ass and convinced the judge to allow me to enlist and serve as an alternative to my sentence. On my first mission, I felt no connection to anybody and felt as if I was fighting alone on the battlefield." He gripped Samuel's shoulder more tightly.

"I'm not claiming that teamwork will save your life when you're staring down the barrel of a gun. Don't get me wrong. But on that mission, I met Petra Ral, who would become my wife and the mother of my daughter. Now, before every mission, I think about losing everything in the blink of an eye, and it scares me half to death. But then, I remember that I have someone to fight for, and I remember that, whether they're on the battlefield with me or back home, I have someone fighting for me too." Samuel seems a little lost, but he continued to listen intently.

"Don't be afraid. You're taking on a tough mission, but you have the support of the strongest soldiers in the world at your back. We'll keep you safe."

* * *

Jean frowned and rolled his eyes at Armin with furrowed brow; the latter glanced back helplessly. Sasha was notorious for her nervous habits, bang bang banging away on the table with her knuckles, but nobody could really fault her for the stress she felt this time around. The whole room had a bit of a gray aura. Nobody, that is, but Jean, who'd finally had enough. He picked up his tray, dumped its contents into the garbage, and sped out the swinging doors, which recoiled back after his exit. Mikasa barely avoided the backswing, nimbly dodging out of the way, spinning with tray in hand and taking a seat next to the jittery Sasha.

"Morning!" She chirped with almost appalling cheer.

"Yesterday must have been a great Eren day," quipped Ymir, uncharacteristically silent until that point. Mikasa grinned.

"Every day," she smiled, "is a good Eren day." Ymir mimed puking; Historia punched her softly in the arm.

"Jean…" Sasha mumbled with a sad frown.

"Don't worry, Sasha," Mikasa reassured the smaller girl. "He can be moody, and given the situation it's not surprising that he's a little on edge. It can't be helped." Sasha continued her antics and didn't reply; her hyperactive mind now focused on the next person to come through the door.

"Connie!" She wailed as her best friend shuffled over and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Good morning, Braus." Connie had a visible smirk as he observed panicky Sasha. "What's all the fuss?" He asked with a mirthy smile.

Eren smacked the weapons sergeant's shoulder as he placed his laded tray onto the table beside Mikasa, who smiled a thousand watt smile up at him. Samuel Linke-Jackson sat down across from him.

"You know damn well what the fuss is," Eren chuckled. The smile dropped off his face as he turned to Sasha. "But what's wrong, though? You're always good with pressure."

"Um," she started. "I don't know about this whole mission... and I'd rather not die," she tried with a tentative smile.

"Well hey, if I die on this mission, at least I get to do it right next to my best - damn - friends -" Connie punctuated each word with a tap to the top of Sasha's head - "in saving Paradis; heck, saving the world!"

"Well I'm glad you're so optimistic about _dying_ , Connie," Ymir chuckled. "You can be the bait." The spell was broken; the table emerged in uproarious laughter.

"Hey," Historia declared, "better you than me!"

* * *

Jean pressed his fingers hands to his temples and his back against the wall outside the cafeteria doors, letting himself slide down to the ground. He felt numb all over. He'd dreamed particularly unpleasant dreams of dying the night before, and he felt queasy. He found himself thinking about his mom and dad. He essentially hadn't spoken to his father in the three and a half months since his mother's death, and he'd been trying not to think too much about him either. So why now?

But then, somehow, he found himself thinking about his friends. He heard Connie's voice inside the cafeteria, although he couldn't quite make out the words; he heard Ymir's voice, and then he heard them all laugh. And he resolved that he'd go and reclaim his seat next to Sasha and laugh right along with them.

And so he did.

* * *

"Good morning, soldiers," Commander Erwin Smith offered magnanimously to the group of 23 people sitting before him. "I won't beat around the bush; your mission is an incredibly important one. The fate of humanity hangs in the balance."

That notion wasn't something Historia was terribly comfortable with. Sure, she was confident in her abilities in all facets of military operation, but the fate of the humanity? That made her decidedly worried. Why did Erwin feel the need to be so dramatic?

"Fort Maria is the primary port defensive stronghold on the Marley mainland. It is remarkably heavy in fortification by land, air, and sea all the same. We can't send in warships, because they've concentrated their submarine force on the coast around the Liberio District. They've constructed a veritable fortress around the base on the land side, a barrier that all the firepower in Paradis couldn't overcome. Their anti-aircraft guns are just as strong, but our best chance comes if we can send in a small recon force by sea to sabotage the AAGs. That's where you all come in."

"Our latest air-to-water-to-land technology is invested in the parachute boats that will get you to shore. Ideally, we can fly close to drop you into the water; you'll be close enough to shore that the subs can't get to you, but far enough out that the AAGs can't bring down the deployment planes. We don't know for sure if the planes will be out of range, but that's a risk we need to take."

"Be warned, this means that the Marleyans will most likely _know_ _that you are on the island_ ; you will have not a moment to laze about. The second you set foot on the shore– even before you set foot on the shore, you are a target."

"The demolitions officers, Historia Reiss and Tomas Wagner, have been given a bag of charges. These are extremely powerful, so be careful; they are remote operated and can be stuck onto the AAGs. There are five detonators that will trigger the charges; one will be in possession of each of the demolitions officer, one in possession of the two main communications officers – Marco Bott and Jean Kirstein – and the last in possession of the squad leader, Levi Ackerman."

"Should the mission with the charges end in failure, the detonators themselves can be used as high-power explosives. These cannot be remotely detonated, however, and each is only good to take out one AAG. To our knowledge, there are 15 large AAGs dispersed throughout the base; there are enough charges to destroy 30. Is your mission clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Historia's heart was in her stomach. She had a really bad feeling about the whole deal.

"You leave at 2100 hours." His face, usually illuminated by his strong cheekbones and golden hair, was stone cold. He looked like Historia felt, tinted ash gray.

"Dedicate your hearts!" The general called out to his soldiers; the soldiers completed the salute.


End file.
